Sometimes I wonder if I am old before my time.
Maybe that is why I felt so comfortable buying an “old person’s” car. (Sorry, Gus!)
Maybe that is why I felt so comfortable buying an “old person’s” house.
I’m fine living among the elderly. It isn’t like I’m in assisted living or anything. Just a quiet community. I love where my house is. It suits me.
However, it does raise a few issues. For example, this came in the mail:
I’ll tell you what. I don’t care WHERE I live or what kind of car I drive. I’m THIRTY-TWO YEARS OLD!
Leave me alone, AARP. I’m a long, long, long, way from retirement. Not only have you offended my age, you’ve depressed me into thinking about how many years of work I have left.
I am aging gracefully, not by leaps and bounds as some seem to assume.